Novel Gold Makes a Family Tree
by Outtie
Summary: What happens when two of the children of our fairy tale characters have to make up a family tree for their class assignment? Mass confusion. That's what happens.


**Novel Gold Makes a Family Tree**

"Class," said Henry Mills, as he passed out this weekend's homework assignments, "I know we're all looking forward to writing our own fairy tales, but I've been informed that The Author's magic quill is missing from the Storybrook Museum and the mayor thinks it would be unwise to write anything 'fictional' at this time... So _instead_ I'm going to ask each of you to draw your own family tree. Don't worry if you don't know how; that's what I'm here for." He crossed back to the front of the classroom and raised the world map hanging over the class blackboard to reveal a chalk drawing of a tree with a bunch of little rectangles hanging from the branches. "You see all you have to do is too start at the bottom and write your name in lowest box and then your write your parents names in the two boxes above that and their parents names in the four boxes above their names and so on. If you have any trouble remembering your grandparents names, just ask your folks. Are there any questions?"

A little girl in the front row with soft brown hair worn in pigtails raised her hand, "Yes? Novel?" he asked kindly, well used to questions from this particularly inquisitive student.

"Will we need to note dates as well?" the little girl asked her teacher. "I've seen family trees in books before and they always include dates of birth and death with each name."

"Usually yes, they do include dates, Novel." Henry answered his best pupil, "But our town as you're all aware is a very special place and many of our parents don't have a fixed date for a birthday. It seems birth certificates weren't too popular in The Enchanted Forest." The class giggled.

"Perhaps we could extrapolate an approximate date by counting back our parents' ages in this world's calendar. With proper research we should be able to narrow it down to..."

"And how would you account for the twenty-eight years of stasis we spoke about in Storybrook History 101?" Henry challenged, "Or the trips through time? Some of your parents even spent a good deal of time in Neverland; do all those years count, Novel?"

"Oh yes!" the girl replied, "Every year should count. Even if those years were touched by magic. After all," she added, "without magic none of us would be here now and it seems rather foolish to ignore that fact."

Henry smiled at his favorite student, "Novel Gold," he said, "if you can charm an actual birth date out of _your_ father..." he paused to suppress the laughter he could feel struggling to escape, "I 'erm..." he coughed lightly to regain his composure, "I look forward to your report."

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Novel Gold's mind wandered as she absently gathered her books and shoved them into her backpack. She was still staring into space when the boy from the back of the class, the oldest in her grade, sauntered up next to her desk and picked up her backpack.

"I'll carry that for you." he said, "I'd hate to see you get blood all over it."

"Wait, what did you say?" Novel asked, finally taking her head out of the clouds.

"I said I'd hate to see you walk into traffic and mess up this finely crafted piece of leather." the boy repeated, "I know that look, Novel Gold and the last time I saw it on your face you walked straight into the school's swimming pool, so if you don't mind, I think I'll save you from another lecture."

"Thanks, Jolly." she said, accepting the boy's help with distracted amiability. _He's probably hoping I'll help him with his homework again_. She decided as the two children walked out of the classroom and headed for the bus home.

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"Hey, did you ever wonder why we have to take the bus to school when everything in Storybrook is pretty much within walking distance?" the boy asked after they were seated on the bus.

"My mom says it's a leftover elusion from the Original Dark Curse that brought all our parents here in the first place." Novel said, laughing into one of her famous Storybrooke history monologues, "The town was designed to mimic other towns in this world, but the magic underpinning its creation can't resist a bit of creative license regarding distances..."

The boy interrupted, "Could you say that again in plain English for the, shall we say, 'less academically gifted' among us?"

"Sorry, I forgot you were held back a grade." Novel said, without derision at her friend's misfortune.

"And you skipped two. I am aware." the boy said, feeling suddenly inferior despite being the biggest and strongest boy in the class.

"What I _meant_ was simply that distance in Storybrook seems to be a fluid point..."

"In English, Novel, Please!" the boy exploded, now thoroughly confused.

"OK, "Novel said, quickly trying to think of a simple way to explain her theory, "You know how sometimes you take a car someplace and it takes you, say half an hour to get there. Another time you can travel from the same place to the same place on foot and it will take the same amount of time. That's weird, right?"

"Oh _that_. Everybody knows that." he rolled his eyes. "Speaking of which... we're here. You did want to stop at the library didn't you?"

"Yes." Novel nodded, as she extracted her notebook and carefully printed today's arrival time in her logbook. "Twelve minutes today." she said, "Yesterday it took fifteen. It rarely varies more than that by bus. If my mother would let me walk to school I could begin to calculate the differences, but mother said I'll have to wait until I'm older and father _always_ backs her up."

"Quite right too." the boy said, remembering his own parents words on the matter, "You never know when some fool is going to conjure up a monster or a curse around here. Best to keep to the established paths."

Novel nodded her acquiescence to the general principle, even if she privately believed it was silly not to investigate the basic scientific laws of a post-magic storybrooke. _These are things we NEED to know!_ She often discussed the point with her parents, but the adults seemed content to just live day to day.

She got up, grabbed her backpack and started for the door, "Aren't you coming, Jolly?" she asked over her shoulder without pausing to hear his answer.

The boy smiled, "I was hoping you'd ask." he shouted as he jumped up and followed her out the door.

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Belle Gold head librarian and town sub-historian, and mother to the precociously intelligent Novel Gold listened attentively to the children about their latest homework assignment.

"I'll be happy to help you with the names." she told them, "But I think it would be best if you talked to your families and got the rest of the information in person. We do have some reasonably complete records that include approximate birth dates for most people, fairies notwithstanding, but my giving you that information would be taking the easy way out don't you think?"

"Easy way sounds fine to me." the boy said rather too loudly and with a lazy grin.

"Please keep your voice down, Roger." Belle cautioned him, "Don't make me shush you."

"May we start our interviews with you mother?" Novel asked.

"Certainly, Dear. What would you like to know?"

"How old are you?"

Roger snorted, "Even I know better than to ask a lady that question."

"Roger is quite right there, my dear. It is quite rude to ask a lady that question. Can you find another way of getting the information you need without it?" Belle challenged her daughter.

Novel mulled it over for a few minutes and said, "Mama, how old were you when you met papa?"

"I was nineteen when I went to live in the dark castle."

"How long did you live there before The Evil Queen captured you and locked you in a tower?"

Belle paused to think, time seemed to pass so differently back in the Enchanted Forest, "I think about one year." she answered. "It's hard to be exact."

"How long were you locked up in the Enchanted Forest before the curse hit?"

"Again it's hard to be exact, but I'd say about two years."

"OK. I think that's all I need, Mother." Novel looked at Roger, "Don't you have any questions?"

Roger shrugged.

Novel rolled her eyes.

Roger grinned.

Belle crossed her arms, subtext _I have things to do you know_.

Novel got the message loud and clear, "Good-bye mama thanks again." Novel smiled at her mother and turned to leave.

"Novel." Her mother called softly after her, "One more thing, don't bother your father just yet, dear. He's working on a particularly delicate bit of white magic and he doesn't want to be disturbed. I'm sure he'll be happy to help you after supper tonight." she looked at Roger and smiled, "You're certainly welcome to join us for dinner Roger. Provided its ok with your folks." she smiled as she shooed the children out into the sunshine.

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Outside the library Novel asked her friend, "Ok Jolly, who should we interview next?"

"Well I suppose since we've interviewed your mother, we'd better go and talk to mine." Roger said with an easy smile.

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At the sheriff station Emma Jones looked up from her paper work and nodded at her deputy, "Hey dad, looks like we're getting some company." the kids approached her desk, "Hey kids." she said, "How was school today?"

"Fascinating" & "Dull" they said in discordant unison.

"So nothing new there." Emma smiled at her father, who smiled back.

"We're researching our family trees." Novel said.

"Sounds like a pain in the a... 'er _posterior_." Emma corrected herself just in time. "How can I help you?"

"Actually, it's your father we should probably ask since he's here too." Novel corrected, "Roger here needs to know the names and the dates of birth and death of his great-grandparents."

Charming put down his coffee, "Roger, please tell me you're not making little Novel here do your homework for you."

"I'm doing my part." Roger said, swinging the two backpacks in front of his grandfather, "I carry the backpacks and make sure this one doesn't walk into trees."

Charming choked back a laugh. Novel's tendency to walk into trees was becoming legendry in town. "I stand corrected." he said as seriously as he could manage; but his eyes sparkled. He turned to novel and gestured for her to open her notebook. "My parents' names were Ruth and Bo, they had a small farm in King George's kingdom. Snow's parents were Princess Eva and King Leopold. As for the birthdates I think you'll find them rather lacking amongst your ancestors, but I can tell you than Snow's mother died when she was ten and her father when she was twenty and _my_ father died when I was very small and my mother died when I was about twenty-five. Oh and I had a twin brother James, he died just before I met your grandmother when I was about twenty or maybe twenty-one. Does any of that help?"

"Well it certainly fills in the boxes." Novel said, "But the dating situation in this town is far more complicated than I ever realized."

"As I recall all Mr. Mills wanted us to do was to fill in the boxes." Roger reminded her, "It was a certain overachiever in the first row that insisted on adding dates."

"I suppose some dates are just going to have to be left blank." Novel sighed, "I hate to leave a project half finished, but it seems to be impossible to get exact details out of any adult in this town."

"I'm sorry," Charming told the pair, "If we'd only known things like this might crop up in another realm one day, than I'm sure the kingdoms would've had birth certificates required by law."

"Hey," Emma interjected, only partially to get them out of her hair so that she could go back to finishing her paperwork, "Why don't you to go talk to Roger's dad. He might not look it, but he's one of the oldest people in town. He might be able to help. You'll probably find him down by the docks pretending to be a fisherman...

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"A family tree?" Hook scoffed, "Sounds like a load of old bilge to me. Did you know at your age, I was swabbing decks on my first voyage across the sea?"

Roger piped up, "Hey dad, can I go..."

"No!" Killian Jones interrupted his sons oft repeated pleas to go sea during the school term. "Your mother won't allow it. You'll just have to wait to board till the captain gives you the go ahead son. Same as I do." he added with a twinkle.

"Your wife told us that you were one of the oldest people in town and that you could help us with our project." said Novel, not interested in letting father and son get sidetracked by seamanship topics.

"Did she now?" Hook smirked, "Well if it's old age you're looking for you should talk to _her_ father," her hooked his remaining thumb at Novel, "Because he's decades older than me. Well at least one." he corrected.

"How do you know that?" Novel asked.

"Well you see your father and I go way back, love. I knew his first family rather well."

"His first family?!" the child croaked.

"The Crocodile still likes to keep his secrets I see, let me enlighten you. Long before _your_ mother was even in a gleam in her great-granny's eye, your father, Rumplestiltskin, had another family..."

"Killian!" Emma Jones, who'd been bringing her unworthy spouse a bear-claw to thank him for helping out the kids, shouted sharply to stop Hook from telling the little girl anything she wasn't ready to hear.

Hook rolled his eyes, but conceded to the inevitable matrimonial position and finished, "And then he met your mother and had you and you all lived happily ever after in his completely masculine pink house." Hook looked to Emma for approval and got an icy glare instead.

But little Novel was definitely NOT an easily distracted child, "What other family?!" she demanded anxiously, her enormous brown eyes filling with unwanted tears.

Hook quickly and correctly surmised that he was in for it when he went home now that he'd actually made the crocodile's child cry. But he knew the little bookworm well enough to know that no lie, no matter how clever would get him out of this. "Look," he began, honestly trying his best to find a way to explain about Mela and Baelfire without further upsetting the girl, "I shouldn't have brought that up to you. If your father had wanted you to know these things than I'm sure he would've told you himself."

"Well he didn't!" Novel said with an angry stamp of her right foot. "Tell me the truth!"

Hook looked pleadingly at his wife, who glared back and turned to Novel Gold with a sigh, "The truth is that a very long time ago your father had another wife, named Mela and another child, his son, your brother Baelfire."

"I have a brother?" Novel cried.

Emma winced, "Had... you had a brother. He... he died, saving the town. Before you were born. That's probably why your dad doesn't like to talk about him. I know for me... it ...it just hurts to remember him sometimes."

"You knew him?" Novel asked, large eyes pleading with the Sheriff to tell her more.

"Yeah, kid." Emma replied, her voice hoarse with emotion, "He and I were, well, ...Henry, your teacher is our son. Mine and Baelfire's."

"You were married to my brother before you married Mr. Jones?"

" _Captain_ Jones if you please." said Hook, who got a 'not helpful' look from his wife for his trouble.

"Not exactly, He and I... it's complicated."

"Does that mean we're related?" Novel asked, looking at Roger.

"I don't know maybe?" Emma offered, "That's kind of complicated too."

"Not to mention that Mela and I were an item back in the day and Baelfire was almost like a son to me..."

The look Emma gave her husband let Hook know he would be sleeping in his dingy tonight.

"So..." Novel struggled to put the pieces she'd been handed together, Henry is your son now because you married his mom, but you said his father, my brother is also kind of your son because you married his mom?"

"Well Mela and I weren't exactly... "

Novel's big innocent eyes stared back at him, "Weren't what?"

"Never mind." He said, wishing this conversation would end.

"But wouldn't that make Henry your grandson as well as your step-son and then Emma would be like your daughter-in-law _and_ your wife?"

"Look kid," Emma said, feeling a major head-ache coming on. "How about I call around and get everyone together at our place tonight. We'll have dinner and then afterwards we'll try and untangle things, ok?"

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After an extremely awkward dinner the Charming-Gold-Jones-Mills clan gathered in Emma's small sitting room to talk things over.

"So you're actually my uncle?" she asked Henry.

"No..." Henry said, "Actually you're MY aunt. I am in fact _your_ nephew."

"And one of your mother's is my aunt and the other one is your own great-grandmother?"

Rumple snorted and had to be quickly shushed by Belle.

"It's 'er complicated." Henry said, looking at his mother's.

"I've been hearing that a lot today." Novel sighed.

"It's not complicated at all." Roger suddenly spoke up, tired of hearing everyone prattle on about relationships (the most boring ships there are!). "They..." he pointed to Rumple and Belle, "Are your parents and they..." he pointed to Hook and Emma, "Are mine. That," he said triumphantly, "is all that really matters."

"But the family tree..." Novel began to argue.

"Is stupid." Roger insisted, "Families don't live in trees and they don't all look like the ones you see on TV. Our families may be complicated but we're not. We're just us and we..." he looked at Novel, "Are definitely NOT related."

While the children discussed the tangled bloodlines their parents have woven around them Charming leaned over and whispered in Rumplestiltskin's ear, "If they get married you and Hook can be co-grandpa's together, just like you and me with Henry." he said good-naturedly slapping the former Dark One on the back.

"Don't you think our family tree has been twisted enough in the evil breeze?" Rumple replied, deftly removing Charming's arm from around his shoulder.

"I think it would kind of sweet and poetic." Snow offered, "If after all we've gone through the two of them can come together and..."

"Snow don't you think we should hold off the wedding plans until they're out of elementary school?" Charming asked his wife.

"I was just saying it would be sweet."

Rumple looked at Belle and smiled, "Well Dearie, here's to another awkward family dinner with the Charmings'." he raised his glass in a mock toast and drained the contents. "Now..." he said, putting down his glass and patting his belly, "Who's ready for dessert?"

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